"FLORENCE!" THEY SCREAM, "Florence, over here! Over here, please!"
The cameras flash violently.
"This way, please!"
"Florence, tell us about your newest project!"
"Look over here!"
I smile as politely and sweetly as I can since I've been told to do so millions of times by dozens of people that claim I have an "RBF"? A resting bitch face, which was not only rude but disrespectful. True? Yes, but who cares.
Red carpets aren't as fantastic as I used to dream about them being as a child. Now that the whole world knows not only my name, but Juliette's, Aaron's, Kenji's, Nazeera's and Lydia's as well, we've become somewhat of celebrities. People with cameras—paparazzi—find us and take pictures of us to make public and show the world. It's been four years since the Reestablishment fell and everyone is desperate to meet us, even now.
As for my "new project", I've been working on my dream job that I've had since I was a child. I've become fashion designer and the first one since the world returned to its new normal. My brand is called Warner & Fashion and I named it after my brother and I. People seemed to be very skeptical of this idea at first, considering who our father was, but I've turned it into something great. Something that is mine and something I'm proud of. And I decided against taking Kenji's surname for the sake of my own identity. Though I don't always associate good things with the name Warner, it's who I am. Who I grew into being and I don't want to lose that, no matter what.
"Florence!" They all scream my name throughout the city's red carpet. We now live in what used to be New York City and have named it such again. I prefer it here much more to where we lived in South America, although we still own that building complex and we're definitely going to use it to go on vacation.
I spot Juliette at the end of the carpet and see she's doing an interview with a reporter, smiling and laughing like this is all very natural for her. It isn't for me. She looks like she was born for this, for the fame and the love. I know I certainly wasn't. Although I appreciate all of the compliments and attention I'm receiving, I also don't know what to do with it all half the time.
"Florence, would you mind doing an interview?" A woman raises her voice over the loud yelling and flashing cameras. She looks tiny beneath all of these men squashing her and it breaks something in my heart. She looks like the type of person who took forever to get here and now that she is, she's being looked over completely. And I don't like that.
So I quickly walk over to her, a smile on my face as I watch her lips rise. She pushes away her black hair and opens her blue eyes fully.
"Hey," I smack away the men crushing her. "Take a few steps back, would you?"
They listen immediately and in a weird way it reminds me of the days I used to train soldiers.
The woman smiles. "Thank you, Ma'am."
"That's fine," I reply, still glaring at the men who cower back. All except for one man who is holding a large camera and peering through it. I can only assume he's with the woman who wants to interview me. "Are you alright?" I ask her.
She nods happily. "Yes, thank you."
"Okay," I say. "What questions have you got for me?"
She chuckles and takes out her microphone, clicking a button on it before pulling to her lips. "Florence Warner, obviously you're known for being the most successful businesswoman after the fall of The Reestablishment and the fashion designs you come up with, but how does the fame affect you? How do you deal with it after having been so quiet for so long?"
"Well," I take a moment to really think about my answer. "People have always known my name. They always knew that Florence Warner was a supreme commander's daughter, they just didn't know what I looked like, that was the difference. Um, but now that they do. . .you know, a lot has changed, I walk out of my home with my husband and people are everywhere, surrounding us and asking to take pictures or receive autographs. It was really overwhelming at first and it still gets that way sometimes, but you sort of get used to it."
The woman nods. "But, my God, Florence, you're only twenty-two. How does it feel to be the youngest and most successful fashion designer already?"
I chuckle anxiously. Every time I hear those words a new sense of immense nerves attacks me. "Uh, well, I think it's safe to say I never thought it would happen. Especially when I spent months and months without touching a pencil and a piece of paper or even thinking about fashion. I'm so happy it all worked out but even hearing those words is. . ." A laugh. "Just crazy, to be honest."
The woman beams. "I can imagine," she says to me. "But what about having gotten married? You and your husband Kenji Kishimoto recently married—seven weeks ago, am I correct?"
This makes the biggest smile tug at my lips. "Yeah, August 13th," I say.
"I believe a congratulations is long over due," the interviewer laughs.
Chuckling, I thank her and she goes on with her questions. After another three rounds or so of dozens of questions, I reach the end of the carpet and make my way into the large skyscraper building. A few more cameramen wait inside for me and I wave to them with a smile, thanking them for their compliments before I get to the door and open it, managing to walk inside. Get in the elevator, up a few floors and I'm here: It's a large pub, leather couches everywhere and dim lights everywhere, soft music playing while different groups as famous as the rest of us eat and drink.
I smile when I spot the group on three leather couches near the window that looks out onto Central Park. They wave me over and I immediately go to sit down beside Kenji. He's in his suit and even though he looks gorgeous, he won't stop staring at me.
"Hi," I say to him with a soft smile.
"Hi," he replies and tilts his head so he can lean on my shoulder.
"Don't do that shit here," I hear Winston say.
Kenji and I turn our heads at the same time. Winston pushes up his glasses and says, "Good. Stopped that in time."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" snaps Kenji. "You and Brendan are constantly glued to one another."
"So? It's okay," he says, "I'm just saying, you two love to get all cute and fucking cozy whenever everyone else is around."
I flip him off. "Fuck you."
"Fuck you right back," he jokes.
"Hey, you two need to stop," says Brendan, his voice laced with seriousness. He points ahead of us and I look away. "Kid's coming."
A gasp escapes my lips when I see her—my goddaughter and niece, Leila, rushes towards me on her little legs and I laugh. Juliette observes her daughter with pure adoration while Aaron seems to be looking around for any threats. I guess that's one thing that'll never leave us. The fear of being watched and ready for attack.
Leila is only two years old and Juliette and I were twenty when she was born. Even Juliette and Aaron agree that they were incredibly young to have a child but seeing as it was an accident—one that always say they'd never take back—it isn't their fault. And I would never want them to take back their mistake because every time I look at that little girl my heart grows three sizes.
She wears a tiny little baby dress—yes, sometimes I'm unable to stop myself from completely falling in love with the little girl who was named after my mother—that compliments her green eyes and dark hair so well. She's stunning. And she's probably the only other child than James that I'll ever be able to stand.
"Flo-Flo!" she squeals, giggling as she struggles to quickly rush to me.
I laugh happily when she reaches me and I scoop her up into my arms. She's so small, oh my God. "Hi," I say a little breathily. "Are you okay? Did you have a good time with James?"
"Uh-huh," Leila sticks a thumb in her mouth. "He's tall."
"He's tall?" I repeat and she nods. "You know who else is tall? Your Uncle. He's really tall. Much taller than me."
Leila glances over at Kenji and he nods, impressed. "I'm taller than you'll ever be, Lei."
"Nah-ah," she says firmly, shaking her head. "I'm. . .tall too."
"You are?" I gasp.
She nods enthusiastically.
"How tall? Are you taller than Mommy and Daddy?"
She flings her little arms into the air and yells brightly, "I'm taller than everyone!"
This makes me laugh. Kenji's arm rests behind me and Leila reaches for him, so I let her climb over to him. Aaron and Juliette approach us and both of them look exhausted.
I snort. "Get any sleep? Whatsoever?"
Aaron shoots me a dirty look, one that would probably scare people into hiding from him but it has no such effect on me. "Once you have children, Florence, you will understand."
I smile.
"Until then," sighs Kenji, leaning back on the sofa. "You guys can be the fun teachers for us, right? Come on, you can't tell this face"—He turns Leila around—"you don't love being parents." A sly grin escapes his lips.
I try not to laugh.
"Oh, I do love it," Juliette chuckles and goes to take Leila into her arms. My niece happily obliges and wraps her little arms around Juliette's neck, hiding her face in the crook of it. "Anyway, don't forget—it's Lydia's birthday next week and she's desperate to fly to the Bahamas. Do not forget, Kenji, I mean it."
He spreads his arms out like How is that my fault? but we're quick to remind him. I say, "Kenji, don't act all innocent when you forget Leila's birthday and Nazeera's. You woke up late and were confused when you saw presents lying around. It took you twenty minutes to realise it was their birthdays and finally congratulate them."
He crosses his arms unsurely. "Fine. Your point? The kid's two, she'll be fine."
I shake my head, smiling. "As long as you don't forget my birthday, we can remain married."
"Auntie Flo-Flo," I hear Leila's mousy voice.
I glance over at her and nod. "Yeah?"
"Dance?"
"Of course, honey, let's go." I get to my feet and quickly take Leila into my arms from Juliette—who looks very relieved and mouths a thank you to me before sitting down—and make my way to the dance floor with her.
I let her stand on her short legs and realize jazz music is playing instead of something fun. So I crouch down to her level and ask her what she wants to listen to.
"Harry Styles," She beams. "A happy song."
I gasp in excitement and a smile reaches my lips too. If Lydia were here right now instead of at home, she wouldn't even hesitate on dancing with us. Harry Styles just so happens to be her favorite artist. And it looks like it might be Leila's too.
I walk over to the bartender and ask him what can be done about the music and he nods, walking into one of the rooms in the back. A few minutes later an actual song starts playing. But whilst we receive a few looks, Leila begins dancing to Daylight by Harry Styles.
She reaches up for my arms and I bend down a little to hold her hands and dance with her.
"If I was a blueeee bird. . ." she sings.
"You got me callin' at all times," I spin her around as we sing and she giggles at my voice.
After we've finished dancing calmly, a very upbeat beat in the song begins playing and I know now that I'm going to be exhausted by the time we're out of here. But we're jumping and singing loudly and people are recording us and laughing sweetly and encouraging us and it's fun.
And now, I realize, I want children soon too.
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02.05.2023
what do we think about famous!flo?🤭🤭